Sands Of Time

Time is like the sea;

You can only hold a little in your hands.

As hard as you may try,

It always slips through your fingertips.

And after it has trickled away,

It leaves its watery mark:

A salty island outline,

Around the palm of your hand;

A bridge across a gorge

Nearing paths of unpromised lands;

A wispy grey hair, a wrinkle,

A scar or eyes with newfound twinkle.


These moments we share together,

I would very much like to treasure.

So if I could simply bottle-up,

Just a wee bit of that

Romantic briny sea.

What a delight to undo the lid,

On a despondent afternoon-

To smell the salt, our memories,

Taking me back to when you made me swoon.


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